The Potion Master's Eulogy
by FlashFiction
Summary: Harry Potter gives the eulogy for the bravest man he ever knew.


**DISCLAIMER: **I do not, nor will I ever own Harry Potter. I am merely an admirer of the magical world that J.K.R has created. A world that she has kindly let people, like myself, play around in.

Harry Potter sat on bank, looking out at the scene in front of him. The sloping ground led down to a large stretch of grass, where people were setting out chairs in neat rows. Beyond this was a dark, black lake, the sighing of the water echoing through the air. The sun shone brightly, though this lightness was not reflected in the moods of the people. It was a sad occasion, as the people were all gathered to say to goodbye. The man they were farewelling had a special place in Harry's heart. Though they had hardly gotten on, Severus Snape had died protecting Harry and, in doing so, had saved the lives of many others. Harry watched the proceedings with a heavy heart, knowing he probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the actions of Snape.

Severus Snape had worked for the Dark Lord, or so everyone had thought. He had murdered Albus Dumbledore, that was the general consensus too. He was someone that most people loathed, Harry most of all. But Harry had discovered Snape's secret during the battle of Hogwarts. It turned out that Snape had been acting on Dumbledore's orders the entire time, waiting for the right moment to revel his true allegiance, a moment that, sadly for him, never came.

Harry sniffed. It had hurt him, to learn that Snape had done everything to protect him. Snape had died to protect him, died for him because he was his mothers son. Snape had loved Lily Potter for his entire life. It was a strange thought, to think of Snape loving someone. But he had loved her and Harry supposed he should be grateful for that.

A cool breeze ran its fingers through the grass, creating a pleasant rippling effect. Harry watched as people began to turn up. His best friends, Ron and Hermione, had been there since this morning. They sat, rather awkwardly, in a crowd of other students. All the participants of the Battle of Hogwarts were there, wanting to pay their respects to the man they owed so much to. The Hogwarts teachers were there as well. Little Professor Flitwick directed chairs in to position, with sharp flicks of his wand. Professor Slughorn spilled over the sides of his chair, his walrus like mustache quivering as he talked. Madame Pomfrey had swapped her usual healer robes for a long, black gown that hung off her thin frame. They all seemed to be taking it hardly.

Professor McGonagall, Harry thought, was taking it the hardest of all. She had organized most of the funeral on her own, leaving no detail to chance. She now stood, her greying hair in her signature bun, barking orders at a harassed looking group of Ravenclaws who had volunteered to help out.

"She looks older." Harry thought.

Professor McGonagall had never been particularly young, but Harry had never really thought of her as an old woman. She had always had a spring in her step and a spark in her eye. Now she walked with a slight limp, the result of four stunning spells hitting her simultaneously. Her eyes were colder, less welcoming, perhaps reflecting the things she had lived through and was still living with.

She thought herself responsible for Snape's death, though she had never said so in such exact words. She thought that she had sent an innocent man to his death, when she refused to turn over Harry. She was battling with her conscience, hoping beyond all hope that she wasn't really responsible. Minerva McGonagall would never know if Severus blamed her, but she knew one thing; she had called him a coward.

Harry knew this was probably what cut her the most. She had always prided herself on saying it how it is, giving credit where credit is due and being unwaveringly fair. She had branded Snape a coward, not knowing anything about what he really stood for. Now her insides were being torn apart, with the knowledge of her last words to the man who had probably saved her.

This hurt Harry too. He had also called Snape a coward. At the time it seemed he deserved no better name, but now it was hard to live with. Harry sniffed again and adjusted his glasses. Maybe that was why he had offered to give the eulogy today. Maybe he thought that it would make things even, like he would be settling the debt between them.

The Potion Master's Eulogy had given Harry many sleepless nights. He had lain awake, wondering what on earth he was going to say about a man that he had hated for most of his life. A man who had hated him equally for longer. Ron had told him he was stupid to except the task in the first place, while Hermione staged what seemed to Harry like little therapy sessions, where she would ask him all about how he felt. Neither approach had helped terribly much and Harry, still sitting on the hill, was slightly unsure about the minutes to come. He would probably just wing it, though that would be exactly the kind of thing Snape would have expected him to do.

"Neglecting responsibility." or whatever it was Snape had liked to say about Harry.

He shook his head and began wandering down towards the crowd.

"Harry? Harry!"

Hermione's voice came from beside him. Harry looked up, to find her pulling him out of his seat.

"It's time for you to give the eulogy!" she whispered, frantically.

Harry rose slowly, aware that all eyes were on him. Mrs Weasley, Ron's mother, gave him an encouraging smile as he walked up to the front of the crowd. Clearing his throat, he looked out at the staring faces and began to speak, unsure of what he was going say, just hoping that his mind would catch up with his mouth.

"Severus Snape was a good man. Not always a friendly one, perhaps not always fair, but he was good. Always good."

Harry paused and looked at Professor McGonagall, who had gone white.

"And most of us didn't know that. Most of us _couldn't _have known that!" He went on.

"We all believed him to be a traitor, a killer and... a coward. But the truth was that no one knew the truth. Everyone thought they knew Professor Snape, but very few did. In actual fact he was probably the bravest man I've ever known. He spent the war lying to everyone, including Lord Voldemort, a man who could have wiped him out with one flick of his wand. He played the part of Death Eater, but all the time he would subtly assist the Order and give information to Dumbledore, something that could have got him killed. What he did was more dangerous than what most us did. While we had the stability of knowing who we were with and against, Professor Snape had to jump between groups, trying to protect those he was ordered to hurt, watching while friends, colleagues and pupils were tortured. It must have been hell for him. And all the time we were hating him for what he did. And he knew it. He knew that those he had once regarded as friends now despised him. But he carried on. Even though he could have turned back, at any point in time, he didn't. He kept on walking down a road that eventually killed him."

Harry stopped, straightened his glasses and continued on.

"I think he knew that too. He knew that one day he would probably die at the hands of his enemy, but he took his chance with death because he had something to fight for. He knew that sometimes in this world, you have to make sacrifices. And he was willing to sacrifice himself. And in the end he did. He gave himself, so that others could live safely. So that the people who hated him, could have their lives back. Their lives, in exchange for his."

Harry gazed out at the sea of faces before him. Ron was pale, his arm around Hermione who sniffing loudly. Members of the Order, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Rubeus Hagrid, the rest of the Weasley family and many students sat looking sombre. McGonagall was crying into Professor Flitwick, who looked just as shocked as Harry to see the now Headmistress of Hogwarts displaying such emotion.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Albus Dumbledore once said that he thought they sorted too early at Hogwarts. Severus Snape was a Slytherin. He was a proud Slytherin and I don't think he would have wanted anything different. But no one can deny, that that proud Slytherin-"

He paused and smiled.

"- Died like a Gryffindor."


End file.
